


Yes, Daddy

by misterbananakun



Category: EXO (Band), K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Drinking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 03:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19165168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misterbananakun/pseuds/misterbananakun
Summary: Kyungsoo dresses up as Harley Quinn for Halloween, and Jongin loses his shit. Or alternatively, Oh Sehun is the spawn of Satan.





	Yes, Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> beta tau sigma is obviously taken from bazooka's work, which i greatly admire. namjin is in here for no good reason except to be mushy. there is also basically, zero plot.
> 
> on a side note: is kaisoo still relevant?

“Are you aware that you’re wearing booty shorts?” Jongin choked out, his eyes seemingly stuck on the glide of Kyungsoo’s pale thighs, down to the bend of his knees. Kyungsoo didn’t seem to notice Jongin’s unabashed staring, preoccupied with smearing what looked like actual glitter on his forearms.

“Is that what they’re called?” Kyungsoo replied absently, glancing down briefly before patting his glittery palms on the sides of his neck. His skin was horrendously speckled all over, completely covered in pink sparkles. “I just picked them off of Sehun. They seem to fit the character,” He shrugged.

  
Okay. Jongin understood that. It fitted the character. Of course. That didn’t explain the glitter. Or the fake snakebite on the side of Kyungsoo’s lips, or the fucking crop top he’d put on that revealed his toned stomach and the angles of his fucking hipbones and Jongin—Jongin was going to lose his shit. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to make Kyungsoo—the epitome of doe-eyed innocence and quiet masculinity— Harley Quinn for the Halloween party?  
Oh, right. Only Satan’s favorite disciple—Oh Fucking Sehun.

  
“Where did Sehun even get them?” Jongin asked weakly, because he was losing his damn mind. He wasn’t even thinking anymore. Kyungsoo was tugging at the strings of his booty shorts and Jongin was going to kill a man by the end of tonight. Preferably someone named Oh Sehun.

  
“He said a fan gave it to him.”

  
“A fan,” Jongin nodded dumbly, because he was far past the stage wondering how anything Sehun’s wild fans gave made any sense. So he kept on staring at Kyungsoo’s belly button instead. Which—actually—wasn’t that helpful in the Trying to NOT Get a Hard-on Department. Kyungsoo had finished wiping the glitter down the front of his shirt that read Yes, Daddy because apparently anything with Daddy on it was fine for a Harley Quinn costume.

It was fine. Totally.

Jongin was totally not imagining Kyungsoo calling him Daddy or Kyungsoo on his knees begging to be spanked. No sir, absolutely not.

“Are you okay?” Kyungsoo asked suddenly, his face passive but clearly worried. “You seem a little—off. Second thoughts about your outfit?” He looked Jongin up and down, assessing the dress shirt and black slacks, the slicked back hair and facepaint pattern on one side of his face. “I think it’s good, though. You look handsome.”

  
Jongin swallowed. He was used to compliments, okay? He wasn’t narcissistic, but he knew he was something to look at, all tanned and toned and tall. So why did Kyungsoo’s compliment make his face burn like a metaphorical piece of coal waiting to melt off to nothingness? He managed to look up, and Kyungsoo was still looking at him, obviously weirded out by the late reply.

  
“I’m fine—thanks. You uh, look—“ Fucking hot. “Fine. Too.” Too fine.

  
Kyungsoo chuckled, worry fading. “Thanks. Hey, I need to find Sehun for the makeup. You can go first if you want. We’ll meet you there.”  
The thought of being alone at a frat party with people he barely knew sent chills down Jongin’s spine; he’d rather stay with them and wait instead. He was about to say so, but then Kyungsoo stretched one arm to the side, unconsciously making his stomach flex and somebody in Jongin’s pants seemed to get the wrong idea.

  
So on second thought, going to a party was a far better option for now.

  
“I’ll go,” He said, turning away hurriedly. “Now. See you later,”

  
“Later,” Kyungsoo replied, starting to stretch the other arm, and Jongin was out of there at the speed of light. There was booze at the party, right? He was totally going to get drunk.  


 

 

The party was surprisingly mellow for a frat party. There was dancing, sure, but none of those crazy wriggling psychopaths grinding against every person within a one meter radius. The music was loud though, and Jongin got more than a few glances (or eyefucks, depending on how you interpret it) from boys and girls as he wandered into rooms, searching for drinks.

Some girls called him out, asking him to sit with them, but their skimpy costumes only reminded him of the sight of Kyungsoo in those goddamned booty shorts. He needed something to wash that image off first (Not that he believed it would work, but he could try) so he waved them off and found the drinks spread across the kitchen table.

  
“It’s still like, way too early for people to show up,” Somebody said amiably as soon as he reached eagerly for one of the many red cups.

Jongin took one look at the colour and knew it was the typical jungle juice, but he didn’t actually care past getting shit-faced drunk by tonight to forget Kyungsoo’s literal ass. He startled and turned to see the president of Beta Tau Sigma leaning against the table. Kim Namjoon raised his chin at him and smiled handsomely.

“Hey. Where are the others?”

  
“Hey. They’re still getting ready,” Jongin answered easily, finally getting some alcohol in his system as he downed half the cup.

  
Namjoon raised an eyebrow at him. “Tough week?”

  
Jongin shook his head. “Some things on my mind,” He mumbled, finishing the rest in one swig and grabbing another. The look Namjoon was giving him maybe warranted like, a dozen lectures about healthy eating habits and proper stress control or something, and then perhaps a few of those psychological metaphors that usually goes right over Jongin’s head—so he smartly diverted the subject.

“So uh, how’s everything? Music coming along?”

  
Namjoon suddenly dimpled at him, and Jongin suddenly realized the star sticker stuck in it. Huh. He was dressed as Steve Jobs or something, only far more glittery. “Same old. I finally finished that song playing around in my head at night, you know, the kind that didn’t have any sort of melody but the notes just kind of kept ringing in your ears, kind of like white noise but not really?“

  
“Right,” Jongin nodded distractedly, as he caught sight of Sehun walking through the front door, looking a smidge better with all that glitter on him. (No, he wasn’t searching for Kyungsoo, shut up.)

  
Namjoon stopped rambling about Boring Stuff TM (probably not even noticing Jongin’s lack of interest) when his boyfriend, co-president of Beta Tau Sigma, slid an arm around his waist. Kim Seokjin, dressed in what obviously was a mild rendition of a pumpkin or something, complete with orange overalls and a leaf atop his head, snuck a kiss onto his boyfriend’s cheek. Namjoon smiled goofily before he leaned down to give him a proper one on the mouth. An elaborately proper one.

  
Which, sure, okay, Jongin got that they were called the power couple amongst all frat houses for a reason. But really, he’d prefer they authorize their power somewhere else. Partly because he didn’t appreciate watching his two friends shove their tongues in each other’s mouth—but also mostly because, well, it hurt.

  
The thought of kissing Kyungsoo like that—he wrestled it down with another awful cup of booze.

  
“Um,” He mumbled, after more than several moments, and didn’t know if he should just sneak away without greeting Seokjin-hyung. The man was scary when his seniority was challenged, even if right now he looked like the epitome of innocence in his ridiculously orange outfit. Jongin can’t figure out what character he was. A grim reaper pumpkin, of some sorts? Jongin was just sliding away from the table, but with his insane luck, both of them stopped exchanging saliva just as he was about to exit the kitchen.

  
“Oh, Kim Jongin!” Kim Seokjin called excitedly, Namjoon’s face still suspiciously in his neck. “Good luck with Kyungsoo!”

  
Jongin froze. There was only one person who knew about his stupid little crush on Kyungsoo.

  
Oh, he was definitely killing someone tonight.

 

 

The thought of Namjoon and Seokjin-hyung washed around in his mind as Jongin wandered aimlessly around. The way they melded together as if they belonged, the way Namjoon’s eyes lit up as Seokjin smiled at him, the way they look at each other. He imagined Kyungsoo looking at him like that, imagined what it would be like to be able to touch him, imagined Kyungsoo shimmying out of those stupid booty shorts.

It was all making him sick. Literally.

  
The alcohol definitely wasn’t helping, in any case.

  
So by the time Kyungsoo and the others arrived, he wasn’t exactly in prime condition to make conversation. He was squashed on one side of the sofa with a guy dozing off beside him when Kyungsoo came and sat on the edge of the sofa, holding one of the atrocious red cups.

  
“Enjoying yourself already?” He asked, tone a little teasing, and Jongin was sloshed, so he looked up blearily. Kyungsoo looked—pretty, which was a supreme understatement. His short hair was magically died blue on one side and red on the other, and his eyes were lined with kohl and eyelids shadowed with similar colours to his hair. The fucking snakebite was still clipped on his plush bottom lip, and all the glitter made him look like an actual fairy, but like, a hot one. Jongin just stared blankly and maybe gurgled something, making Kyungsoo laugh.

  
“I think Sehun went overboard with the makeup,” He shrugged, pulling at his dyed hair apprehensively. “He wanted me to put on some lipstick but—I would’ve looked even more stupid than I do now.”

  
Jongin imagined Kyungsoo with vampire red lipstick on his pouty lips and shuddered involuntarily.

  
“You’d look fine,” Jongin assured instead, but it came out weirdly, so he tried again. “You’d look so fine. You look pretty now. Pretty fine Kyungsoo.”

  
“Thank you,” Kyungsoo smiled, but with a frown. “Are you drunk?”

  
Jongin hiccupped petulantly. “No.”

  
Kyungsoo wrinkled his nose. “Great. I thought you’d save me from all these intoxicated assholes but apparently you’re one too. Also, since when did you drink irresponsibly?” Kyungsoo leaned closer to Jongin again sniffing him, and Jongin hoped he didn’t hear his heart jump-starting like an old junkyard car. “You smell shitty. I’ve never seen you so drunk before.”

  
“Now you’ve seen it,” Jongin mumbled back, except it came out sounding like “nmmfff” instead.

  
“Ugh. Do you need a glass of water or something?”

  
Jongin shook his head, but Kyungsoo was standing up, clearly getting that glass of water—and Jongin, drunk off his mind, pulled him much harder than necessary to make him stay, effectively landing Kyungsoo right onto his lap.

  
“Uh,” Kyungsoo started, glancing back hesitantly.

  
“Just stay here,” he slurred, hugging Kyungsoo to his chest and tried to sniff at his neck without being obvious. Kyungsoo smelled like clean sweat and cologne and vanilla. Jongin loved it.

  
“Oh,” Kyungsoo squeaked. There was a moment when he tensed, clearly thinking of what to do, but the moment passed and suddenly Jongin had a compliant Kyungsoo in his arms, leaning back on him comfortably.

  
Jongin didn’t know how long they just sat there, the experience quite surreal but entirely pleasant until suddenly Kyungsoo stood up, turned around—and straddled Jongin’s hips, their torsos pressing together obscenely.

  
“This is better,” Kyungsoo murmured, eyelashes flickering as he looked down at Jongin, biting his lips.

  
“Yea,” Jongin agreed, swallowing pass he lump in his throat. It was somehow getting a bit hot, what with Kyungsoo’s hips in his hands and his thighs bracing Jongin’s. Jongin squished Kyungsoo’s exposed tummy a bit, pinching it gently and marveled at how soft he skin was.

  
“I’ve been wondering,” Kyungsoo started conversationally, taking Jongin’s hands (probably because Jongin was getting a bit too handsy) and measuring it absently with his own. Jongin nodded, trying to seem attentive when really, his mind’s wandering off somewhere it probably wouldn’t even consider if he’s sober.

Something along the lines of Kyungsoo grinding him into oblivion. Or Kyungsoo’s lips on his as he moaned lewdly. Or something. It didn’t matter.

“Do you have a thing for cosplays or something?”

  
Jongin reeled back so hard from the question he felt almost sober as he stared at Kyungsoo in disbelief. Cosplay. Cosplay, he said.

Kyungsoo was wearing booty shorts that perfectly accentuated his ass and looked so fucking beautiful while now sitting on top of Jongin like a fucking lap dancer and he thought Jongin was losing his shit right now because he has a thing for cosplay?

  
“No,” Jongin stated, knowing he took too long to answer but was far too drunk to care.

  
Kyungsoo tilted his head questioningly. “Then—it’s a Harley Quinn fetish?”

  
Jongin shook his head vehemently and Kyungsoo sighed.

“What is it then? You’ve been staring at me like a piece of meat ever since I put on the costume,” He tilted his head, reconsidering his words. “Actually, a lot of people have been doing that.”

  
“Is it their fault, though?” Jongin retorted (more like slurred, but hoped Kyungsoo got the point). He was getting tired of all these wrong guesses. Kyungsoo was way off, and he needed to do something about it. “You look fucking hot, Kyungsoo,” And there it was, good old liquid courage. “In fact, you look good every single time I look at you.”

  
“Oh,” Kyungsoo breathed, and he might have blushed, but the makeup’s covering it. “Really?”

  
Jongin nodded, smiling up happily at Kyungsoo. Now he got it. What a relief.

  
Kyungsoo giggled, pinching Jongin’s cheeks fondly. “Stop. You look ridiculous.”

  
“You’re ridiculous,” Jongin retorted.

  
Kyungsoo laughed, and then bent down, “FYI, you’re hot too,” he whispered, before leaning back again and grinning naughtily.

  
Fuck. Jongin could feel his palms sweat as he gurgled incoherently. Was this even reality anymore? Could alcohol even cause hallucinations?

  
“You know,” Kyungsoo tilted his head, wide eyes twinkling with mischief. “If you weren’t so drunk we could totally get it on. But it feels like I’m taking advantage when you’re like this,” Kyungsoo peeled away from Jongin smoothly, patting his head. “So—maybe next time. Okay?”

  
“Huh?” Jongin blinked, confused by the turn of the events—and mostly just lamenting the loss of Kyungsoo’s body against his.

  
“See you. I’ve got to thank Sehun for these,” Kyungsoo muttered, tugging at his booty shorts.

  
“Wait,” Jongin mumbled, but Kyungsoo was already lost in the crowd and Jongin is left to wonder whether or not all of that was just a dream.

 

  
Jongin woke up with the worst hangover of his life. His head was pounding and his mouth felt like it was stuffed full of tissues while simultaneously smelling like rotten eggs. He just wanted to take a shower and maybe wallow in his bed for a day or two, but apparently he’d murdered a whole nation in his past life or something, because as soon as he opened his crusty-ass eyes, he’s face to face with the devil’s incarnate.

  
“Heard you and Kyungsoo sexed it up last night,” Sehun said with a shit-eating grin on his face. Jongin wanted to deck him, because now he remembered last night, how he’d pulled Kyungsoo into his lap and basically pawed the poor guy all over until he couldn’t take it and just left. He didn’t know what Sehun was talking about, but clearly the guy was delusional, because what he and Kyungso did last night barely counted as ‘sexing up’.

  
“So? Did you guys do it?”

  
“Fuck,” Jongin muttered. “Don’t shout.”

  
“I’m talking with my normal indoors voice,” Sehun replied pompously, and poked Jongin in the face. He got a flailing arm for his trouble as Jongin struggled to sit up. “You look like shit, though. Did you or did you not bang Do Kyungsoo last night?”

  
Jongin groaned again. Sehun was being so fucking annoying, pouring salt in his wounds and still fucking shouting. “We talked,” Jongin finally grumbled. “That’s it.”

  
“Fffwhaaaat,” Sehun sang, and slumped into the couch, shaking his head dissapointedly. “I had faith in you, Kim Jongin. You are a disgrace to our Broship.”

  
“Shut the fuck up,” Jongin said, and shuffled pathetically to the bathroom. He’d kill Sehun later. He’d managed to murder a whole nation after all.

 

 

 

Kyungsoo was, predictably, not in a Harley Quinn costume today.

Which was a relief, but not entirely, because it was cold out, and he was wearing a grey, oversized sweater that really shouldn’t look so fucking adorable on anyone. Jongin shut down the voice in his head asking him to pounce on his best friend.

  
“Hungover?” Was the first thing Kyungsoo said when he came up to Jongin. “I’m not surprised.”

  
“Shut up,” Jongin groaned. “Can we just forget last night?”

  
Kyungsoo snorted. “Like you remember anything.”

  
Jongin shrugged as he slung an arm over Kyungsoo’s shoulders.

Kyungsoo seemed to tuck into him like a small animal, obviously trying to dispel the cold. “Fair enough. I just thought whatever I did wasn’t worth remembering anyway. Any more classes today?”

  
Kyungsoo shook his head, then tugged his scarf down to speak. “Just this one. I do have a shit ton of assignments though. Just a heads up if you wanted to take me on a date ending with bomb sex.”

  
Jongin barked out a surprised laugh. Kyungsoo had the weirdest sense of humor, which, of course meant it was the best. “Nope. I don’t put out on the first date.” Jongin answered cheekily.

  
“And if I wear those booty shorts you like so much?” Kyungsoo asked, all innocent and doe-eyed.

  
Jongin choked on his spit but managed to recover enough to reply, “I--Maybe.”

  
Kyungsoo hummed knowingly. “So, I was thinking,”

  
“That’s dangerous,” Jongin teased, glad that _that_ moment was over. 

  
Kyungso poked him in the ribs vengefully.

  
“I was thinking we could hang out. Maybe just the two of us. Maybe without any of us being drunk?”

  
Jongin looked at Kyungsoo in surprise. He could feel his cheeks warming up as Kyungsoo looked back coyly. Jongin took too long to answer.

  
“It’s whatever,” Kyungsoo huffed. Jongin could feel his whole body give way, like he’s given up or something. “I was just--“

  
“No take-backs,” Jongin interrupted, completely panicking. He almost just ruined what would have been a date. What the fuck? Is this really happening? “We’re going out. Saturday? Please dont tell me it’s a joke,”

  
Kyungsoo paused in his steps, making Jongin follow suit. then he looked up, biting his lips to stop a smile. Gosh, he looked perfect like this.

  
“I mean, it was partly a joke—“

  
Jongin held his breath.

  
“But yeah,” Kyungsoo grinned. “Saturday’s fine.”

  
Jongin exhaled slowly.

  
“Yeah. Saturday.”

  
And as they arrived at Kyungsoo’s campus, he stood on his tippy toes, hands on Jongin’s shoulder for balance, and daintily placed a small kiss on Jongin’s nose.

  
“See you, loser,” Kyungsoo said, smiling. 

  
“Saturday!” Jongin called, grinning like a total loser, realizing how inevitable it all felt, ever since the first time he laid his eyes on Kyungsoo.

And okay, maybe he owed Sehun a thank-you gift for once.

 

 

 

 

 


End file.
